


If You Want a Bad Boy

by MaybeItWasMemphis



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeItWasMemphis/pseuds/MaybeItWasMemphis
Summary: Jefferson High School’s reformed bad boy runs into the school nerd ten years after graduation.
Relationships: Brantley Gilbert/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nope. Don’t know him. This never happened. Why do we have to write these things? Are there really people out there who think Brantley Gilbert or someone he knows is just sitting around writing stories about himself/him and posting them on the internet? That was a rhetorical question. No one explain to me the legalities of disclaimers. I’ve probably been writing them longer than you’ve been alive because I’m old.

_“She heard my reputation, it’s all over this small town_

_But there’s a little bit of fire under all the smoke_

_You know how word gets around_

_Back in the day, you were a Straight-A student_

_Daddy’s little girl, honey what are you doin’_

_Talkin’ ‘bout lettin’ your hair down_

_We’ll take a ride on the wild side of town.”_

**\- Brantley Gilbert, ‘If You Want a Bad Boy’**

“Charlotte, I hate to ask, but could you stay a couple of hours late tonight?”

I really wanted to tell George no, but my rent wasn’t going to pay itself. “Sure, why?”

“We’ll be hosting an autograph signing for some big country singer.” George, Charlotte’s manager at the Wal-Mart Superstore in Nashville, beamed. The middle-aged man always seemed to be happy. Nothing ever bothered him. It could get irritating sometimes. “Isn’t that exciting?”

No, not really. The store hosted one of those every other month, it seemed like. This was Nashville, after all. “Sure,” I pasted a polite smile on my face. “I take it you need help setting up for it?”

George nodded. “Yes, but you won’t be alone. Mia agreed to stay as well. I know it’s a lot of work, and I would have asked Kevin to stay, but, you know…the complaints,” he whispered like it was a secret. It wasn’t. The whole store knew that Kevin wasn’t allowed to work alone with female coworkers anymore. He was a total sleazeball.

“If I stay late, is there any way I can work the afternoon shift instead of the morning tomorrow?” I could really use a morning of sleeping in. “Who is the country singer anyway?” Occasionally I was a fan, and I would make sure to get an autograph.

“We can do that,” George nodded. “And let me have a look here.” He glanced down at his clipboard. “Brantley Gilbert.”

I almost spit out my own tongue. I knew that name…and not because he was famous. Before moving to Nashville for college, I had lived in Jefferson, Georgia, my entire life. I wasn’t the only one who hailed from the small town. Brantley was the town bad boy that I had briefly gone to high school with. In my freshman year, Brantley was a senior. I had a crush on him…a lot of my classmates did. He never noticed me, though. I was a shy bookworm. He rode a motorcycle and dated cheerleaders. “I went to high school with him.” Why did I just say that? I internally started kicking my own ass.

“Well, isn’t that something?” George beamed. “Maybe the two of you can catch up while he’s here.”

“Not gonna happen,” I scoffed. “We just went to the same school. We were never friends.”

“You never know. The two of you could be friends now,” said George, the eternal optimist. “You’re both big successes now. He’s a big-time country star, and you’re the youngest assistant manager in the store’s history.”

Yeah, we were totally the same. He was rich and famous. I had a business degree and somehow found myself getting paid hourly to help manage a struggling big box store that had only been open since 2002. I needed to extract myself from this conversation ASAP. “George, if I’m staying late, I need to step outside and call my sitter.” My nieces and nephew weren’t going to care for themselves. The eldest, Melody, was only nine. Darby was four, and Bodhi was two. The kids belonged to my older, currently incarcerated older brother, Danny.

“You go ahead and do that.” George nodded seriously. “Can’t have the rugrats home alone.”


	2. Chapter 2

I was half-dead when I finally dragged myself home at a little after nine.

“You look as tired as I feel.” My babysitter, my elderly neighbor, Janice, gave me a sympathetic smile as I hung my purse on the hoof next to the front door.

“Long day,” I chuckled. “How were the kids?” I grabbed a stack of mail off of the entranceway table and began going through it. Bill, late notice from the library, the weekly newsletter from Melody’s school…

Janice pushed herself to stand up off the couch using her cane. “They were their usual selves. Melody tried to get out of doing her homework, Darby ran around most of the day trying to protect Gotham City from the Joker, and Bodhi was a sweetie pie.”

I laughed as I pulled a couple of twenty-dollar bills out of my back pocket and handed them to her in payment for her services. “Are they all in bed?”

“Yep. Bodhi and Darby are out cold, but Melody was awake the last time that I peeked in our her.” Janice shrugged into her jacket.

When I went upstairs, I poked my head in Melody’s room. She was sitting up in bed reading ‘The Princess Diaries.’

“I’m home, sweetpea. Go to sleep.” The little girl had it rough with my older brother. She was prone to separation anxiety and didn’t often go to sleep before I arrived home.

Melody marked her place in her book and set it on her nightstand before shutting off her lamp. “Night, Auntie Charlotte. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

I checked in on Bodhi and Darby before finally retiring to my room for the night. As I laid down to sleep that night, I had no way of knowing how much my mundane little life was about to change.


	3. Chapter 3

When I arrived at work the next day, it was to find the line of Brantley Gilbert fans wrapped around the building…twice. I actually had to fight my way inside the store and ended up clocking in five minutes late, although I had arrived twenty minutes early. 

“Hey, Charlotte,” the floor supervisor, Josh, got my attention from the doorway of the breakroom.

“Hey, Josh, what’s up?” I asked as I pinned my name tag to my blouse.

“George told Brantley Gilbert about you, and he said he remembers you from high school. He asked me to ask you to come by the autograph booth when you get a free second.” Josh shrugged. “I guess he wants to catch up or something.”

How the hell was that possible? We hadn’t said more than five words to each other in the year of high school we had together. 

“Alright,” I nodded. “So, it’s going to be one of those days,” I mumbled under my breath.

*** 

Giving myself plenty of busywork was how I avoided going over to the autograph booth for as long as possible. Whenever someone suggested I go over, I pleased work as my excuse. This worked for a few hours…until George caught up with me. He had literally taken my clipboard, price gun, and radio away from me. Now he was refusing to give them back until I went over and said hello to Brantley. I had no other choice but to do it.

The event was just closing down when I arrived behind the black privacy curtain that I had set up behind the autograph table the previous day. I caught Brantley just as he left the table. Damn it! Five more minutes and I would have been in the clear. 

He was wearing ripped jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and a matching baseball cap. He was undoubtedly rocking way more chains and biker-esque rings than he had in high school. Back in the day, his look would have been best described as clean-cut all-American boy. I was a huge fan of the tatted-up muscular man that he grew up to be. Damn. 

A smile lit up his face when he saw me. “Charlie.”

I cringed internally, and maybe a little outwardly. “No one’s called me that since high school.”

Brantley awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought that was your name, so now I’m at a loss for what to call you, darlin.’”

“My name’s Charlotte,” I informed him. 

“Charlotte, I’m sorry, my bad,” he apologized. 

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. This is gonna sound rude, and it’s not meant to, but why did you want to see me? I mean, you didn’t even really know my name.”

Brantley chuckled. “Yeah, we weren’t exactly friends, were we?”

“I think you stopped me in the hall once to ask me what period it was after getting stoned under the bleachers. Does that count?” I laughed. 

“I used to run in the same circles as your brother Danny,” he clued me in to a fact that I had not previously been aware of. “I think I noticed you more than you noticed me.”

Highly unlikely. “Being friends with my brother is not a ringing endorsement.”

“He still raisin’ hell?” Brantley took another step towards me and put his hands in his front jeans pockets. 

“No, not since he got put away last year.”

“Damn, sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re not the one who held up a 7/11.”

“This isn’t going well, is it?” Brantley blurted out. 

“I’ve had better conversations.” I was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. 

“Can I take you out to dinner to make up for it?” He looked hopeful.

“No,” I told him regrettably. “Not because of the conversation,” I rushed to add. “It’s just that when Danny went to prison, I took custody of his kids, and I won’t have a sitter after I get off at nine.” I was sure the dinner invite would be canceled once he knew about the kids. 

“You got a lot on your plate, sweet girl.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “How’s about you give me your number so I can try and make up for this terrible conversation when you have more free time?” He handed me his phone with his contact list open. 

“Um…sure.” I was so taken by surprise that I couldn’t come up with anything better to say. I took his phone and entered my number. “You heard the kids part…right?” I felt the need to clarify. “There’s three of them, and the only way Danny’s getting them back when he gets out is over my dead body.” I handed back the phone.

Brantley pocketed the phone and grinned cockily at me. “I ain’t deaf, sweet girl. I heard ya. It don’t bother me.” He shook his head. “A guy don’t run into the girl who got away too often. Don’t wanna waste my shot.”

“I am so fucking confused right now.” It wasn’t polite, cute, or ladylike, but it was the only thing that I could force out of my mouth. 

Brantley burst out laughing at me, and it took a hot second for him to regain control of himself. “I had a thing for you in high school, sweet girl. I’m trying to get you to go on a date with me, but it ain’t goin’ too good. Are you still confused?”

YES! “I guess not,” I lied. “And the answer’s yes to the date. Just call me later to figure out when.” I thought I would go for it. You know that old saying – when in the Twilight Zone. “I do have to get back to work, though.” It was the back-to-school season, and I had deliveries that needed to be overseen. If a manager wasn't there to make sure a delivery was correct, we might end up with an overrun of something unneeded. During the last holiday season rush, I hadn’t been on the loading dock for a toy delivery, and we had ended up with five thousand pink furbies. We were forced to put them on sale for $2.50 to get rid of most of them. I was almost positive that we still had at least six hundred still in the stockroom. 

“I’ll call you tonight, sweet girl.” Brantley broke me out of my work-related thoughts. He kissed my cheek before leaving. 

“What the hell just happened?” Great. Now I was talking to myself.


End file.
